To Be Yours
by Neko-chan4
Summary: [UPDATED!! Chps. 1 & 2 now up!] A Yuuhi/Aya fic. Contains SPOILERS for the end of the series! A slightly angsty romance about what happens over 2 years after the events from the end of the series. Please r/r!!
1. Prologue

AN: For those of you who have already read this, just note that it has been edited somewhat since its original posting—nothing major, only slight spelling and format changes.  But I advise possibly reading it over before going on to Chapter 1—if not because it's different, but simply to refresh your memory before you read the new stuff.  NOTE ~ Fanfiction.Net no longer lets me center anything.  If you wish to read this fic in its proper format, please head to my fanfiction ML (link provided on my Profile page.)

~* To Be Yours *~

By Nichole (Neko-chan) Johnson

Written: October 22, 2002

Revised: July 23, 2003

_For Yuuhi's sake…_

~*~*~*~

_Prologue_

"_Ani-ue!  Ani-ue!"_

The child's laughter drifted to Aya's ears from the garden; sharp, insistent and riddled with childlike joy, momentarily dispelling the shadow that clouded her heart.  A soft smile touching her lips, the young woman moved to the _shoji_, sliding it softly in its track to peer out into the sun-dappled garden beyond.

"_Ani-ue, looky!" squealed the tiny child's voice once more; dashing across the sliver of a view Aya had allowed herself.  Something in her wanted to keep her observance unknown, so she kept the _shoji_ open only a crack._

Out on the lawn, the child came to a halt, crouching over some unseen treasure in the grass.  Wonder shown in the child's large, expressive eyes; eyes that reflected the sunny green of the grass in which he gazed, and a playful breeze tugged at the child's shock of golden-red hair as he once again called to his unseen playmate, pointing a chubby, baby finger at whatever had caught his attention so.

Amused, masculine laughter rewarded the child's summons; a sound utterly unlike the high, bell-like laughter of the child, and somehow equally as melodic to the young woman's ears, which overheard the entire exchange from the shadowed recess of the house.

"Sora!  You shouldn't run off so fast!" chided the masculine voice, the sound of a man's calm, assured strides crossing the lush lawn.  A young man—lithe and fit, with loose, sun-touched brown hair and hazel eyes alight with laughter—came into Aya's skewed view, leaning inquisitively over the child crouched intently in the grass.  Aya's smile deepened, a sadness touching her eyes as she watched.

"What did you find, Sora?"

"Looky, _ani-ue!" crowed the towheaded child eagerly; looking up at the young man crouched over him intently._

Yuuhi blinked curiously, crouching down beside the child and peering at the small bud peeking through the thick blades of grass.  "Huh…  It's a flower," he murmured thoughtfully, brows furrowing slightly in bewilderment.

"F'wower?" echoed the small child inquisitively, looking back down at the small bit of color peeking through the endless green of the lawn.

"What's it doing in the middle of the lawn…?" continued Yuuhi softly, musing over the tiny wildflower's sudden appearance.

"Pwetty," cooed Sora happily, ignoring the young man's bewilderment.  Eyes still wide with youthful wonder, he extended one chubby little fist, grasping eagerly at the little budding flower.

"_Matte!" cried out Yuuhi shortly, catching the small fist before it could do any damage with gentle deftness.  Sora looked up at his companion curiously, and the young man laughed assuredly, dispelling any fear the child may have had of having done something wrong._

"_Ne, let's let it bloom, okay, Sora?" he told the boy, swinging him up in his arms and onto his shoulders._

The child let out a squeal of joy, swinging his arms in excitement from his perch on Yuuhi's broad shoulders.

"But for now, you and I need to go inside," Yuuhi's voice could be heard, fading away as he walked towards the house.

"Why?" came little Sora's innocent query.

"Somebody has to make your Mommy's breakfast."

"Ohhhh…!" came the boy's frustrated reply.  "But I wanted you to pway with me, _ani-ue_…!"

*  *  *

Aya wondered how outside, it could be so bright and carefree while the shadow in her heart left her feeling bathed in darkness.

It was the anniversary of that day; the day when the sun had ceased to shine quite so brightly in her world.  Every other day of the year, she could retain her cheerfulness; the zest for life that being with her beloved Sora and all the people still with her, who cared about her so dearly, could bring.  But this day she could never escape, not for the last two years.

_Touya… _ The ache in her heart seemed to constrict momentarily, burning with the memory of a beloved's soft touch.  Clutching the seashell tightly in her fist—her most treasured memento—the young woman gazed dolefully back at the image that accosted her in the mirror.  Her golden, bleached hair had continued to grow unfettered in the last several years, ever since her pregnancy, and the long locks now fanned out beyond her shoulders; only a hand's-width from her waist.  Her lavender-blue eyes weren't quite as wild and innocent as they had been; they had grown wiser, and more pinched with age.  It was the face of a woman who looked back at her now, not that of a strong-willed and harassed teen.

She had known it wouldn't last long, their marital bliss.  He'd begun to show signs of wear even before the birth of their child.  But he had always remained cheerful, always supportive; never once had he allowed the illness to control him, and they had celebrated the birth of their beautiful baby boy, Sora, together.  Happy.  So utterly happy, they had been.

Tears pricked at the back of her eyes, threatening to spill, but the young woman held them back with amazing restraint.

It had remained that way for a year.  The three of them—together and perfect; a loving family.  Touya had been such a loving and gentle father; had seen to his infant son's every need, watching over him with a look of overwhelming joy and wonder at this small being he had helped to bring into the world.  Even when his body had begun to fail him; when he could no longer leave his bed, that look of overwhelming love and happiness had never left his eyes.

_"Aya…"_

_His young wife nodded gently to him, choking back the sobs that tried to join the tears already escaping down her face.  Touya extended his hand, and she leaned her cheek eagerly into his touch, allowing him to wipe the glistening trails away with his thumb._

_"Aya," he murmured again, green eyes dull with pain.  "Sora…"_

_Aya held the small baby up to him obligingly, a hesitant smile hovering over her lips, although her eyes still wept silent tears._

_The red-haired man let a small sigh of content escape his lips, as he reached out a gentle hand to stroke his sleeping child's hair.  Gold, like his mother's, with just a hint of his red._

_"Sora… Our little piece of heaven," he whispered gently._

_A sound, somewhere between a sob and a burst of short-lived laughter escaped Aya's lips, as she turned her gaze to the sleeping baby in her lap.  The look of grief replaced itself with a mother's soft, loving smile._

_Watching them, mother and child, a soft smile graced the dying man's lips.  "There," he murmured, a touch of wry humor coloring his dry voice._

_"That smile, Aya…  Sora should always see that smile."_

_Aya looked up, meeting her beloved's intense gaze.  The smile on Touya's lips deepened, reaching his eyes, and lighting them briefly._

_"I wish for you…to always smile, Aya."_

Tearing her eyes away from the mirror, and the reflection that had begun to weep before her, Aya clutched the seashell more tightly to her chest, fighting the pain of the past washing over her.

_I have!  I have kept smiling! _she insisted fiercely to the dead man's image.  _It's only this day…that I cannot…_

A gentle knock at the shoji interrupted her thoughts.

"Aya-san?" came the old woman's voice, tone gentle.

Wiping the last traces of tears from her eyes, the young woman straightened herself, composing herself at last in light of emerging memories.  The _shoji_ slid open softly, and the concerned face of Q-san peered unobtrusively into the room.  Aya smiled assuredly at the old servant, pushing the memory of Touya's dying face from her mind and focusing on the present.

"Hai, Q-san.  Is breakfast ready?"

"Hai, Aya-san.  Yuuhi-san asked that I check on you," replied the woman.  She cocked an eyebrow suspiciously, giving the room a cursory glance.

Aya pretended to not notice the elder woman's concern, still smiling cheerily.  "_Domo_.  Tell Yuuhi I'll be down to breakfast as soon as I've gotten ready, okay, Q-san?"

"_Hai, Aya-san," replied the family servant, still somewhat concerned.  Bowing slightly, she turned to leave, but Aya quickly moved to stop her._

"Oh, that reminds me, Q-san!  Is Sora with Suzumi?  I woke up and he wasn't in his bed this morning…"

The young woman feigned concern, already knowing the answer to her question but wishing to hear it from the other woman.

A nostalgic smile lit up the elderly servant's face.  "Oh, I wouldn't be concerned, Aya-san.  The little Master Sora is in the kitchen with Yuuhi-san."

With that, she turned, and softly sliding the _shoji_ closed behind her, left the young woman to dress and prepare for breakfast.

*  *  *  *  *

_Glossary_

_Ani-ue_ – big brother; usually used to refer to an older brother, but also for someone (male) 

   older than oneself.

There are many forms of 'brother' or 'big brother' in Japanese, but I chose this one 

because I thought it fit a small child's voice well.  In _Inuyasha_, Sango's little brother Kohaku addresses her as 'ane-ue', (older sister) and the small sound of his voice crying out "Ane-uue!" has always stuck in my mind, and I thought it a fitting sound for little Sora to be making.

_Sora_ – sky; air; heavens

            I thought it a fitting name for Aya & Touya's 'lovechild'—Aya being the descendant of a 

celestial being, and Touya, created from her mana.  Also, their child was looked on as so 

important between the two of them; really symbolic to the end of the series, so I felt it should have an equally symbolic name.


	2. flowers for his grave

AN: _Anoo_…I know!  It's been waaay too long since I updated this!  _Gomen__ nasai!!  I am not fit to be an author!!  *sob* … Ahem.  But one day, I just had the sudden urge to work on this again (yay!) and so, here it is!  Wa-la!  Two chapters for your reading pleasure!  You can thank my sudden obsession with __Fruits Basket for that—I don't know how it helped, but it did.  (_GOMEN NASAI!!!)__

~* To Be Yours *~

By Nichole (Neko-chan) Johnson

Begun: November 6, 2002

Finished: July 22, 2003

_For Yuuhi's sake…_

~*~*~*~

Chapter One ~ Flowers for His Grave 

Aya slipped softly and unnoticed into the Aogiri kitchen, watching with tender amusement the familiar scene that met her eyes.

"…Now, you have to stack them carefully, Sora," chided Yuuhi lightly, his large hands gently guiding the boy's small ones on the handles of the spatula as they carefully stacked the freshly flipped pancakes onto separate plates.

The fair-haired toddler watched the process with startling seriousness, allowing the chef to guide his hands skillfully across the plates of food as he observed with an intensity and appearance of understanding beyond his years.  It always amazed Aya at the young child's interest in cooking at such a young age, but she had no argument with his being in the kitchen.  She trusted Yuuhi and his skills; trusted he would never let harm come to the child, just as with herself.  And the young chef seemed to enjoy the boy's company immensely, as well as the chance to share and pass down his skills.  There was a bond that had developed between the two, there in the kitchen, and it was something silent and immense.  It was something Aya had never expected, let alone wished for.  After everything that had happened between herself and the impetuous young martial artist…knowing his original dislike for Touya; the rivalry there, she had never known what to expect from him in light of her child.  At the most, she had hoped for acceptance; at the worst, she had expected resentment.  Never had she entertained such a close friendship between the two; somewhere between the camaraderie and idolatry of brothers, and the love and protection between father and son.

In some ways, it made the tangle of feelings she had for her old protector that much more painful; although it brought a bittersweet smile to the young woman's lips.

In her daydreaming, Aya hadn't noticed the two turn from their task and notice her standing in the doorway, looking lost in thought.

"Aya?"

The blonde blinked her violet eyes collectively at Yuuhi's inquiring voice, recovering from her momentary daydreaming to meet the young man's concerned, hazel gaze.

Sora untangled himself from the cook's strong arms, scrambling hurriedly off of the footstool he had been perched upon.  "Mama!"

Tearing her eyes away from Yuuhi's enchanting hazel gaze, Aya smiled happily at the small child throwing himself eagerly into her open embrace.  Crouching down to his level, she hugged the boy tightly; all the despair and pain that had been plaguing her recently dissolving momentarily at the feel of the small being enfolded in her arms.  This was her son; her gift from heaven.  Even with the loss of Touya still weighing on her heart, the sight of her son could bring sunlight to the darkest of days.  He was more precious to her than life, and no amount of words could describe the depth of her love for him.

Sora looked up from his mother's embrace, delight shining in his young, green eyes.  "Mama, we make you pancakes!" he declared happily, stretching up on his toes with excitement.

Aya smiled back at him warmly, seeing Touya there in his loving gaze.  "_So desu ne?_" she replied teasingly, looking up and meeting Yuuhi's gaze once more.  The two adults shared a charmed smile at the child's excitement.

After a moment, the young woman found herself looking away, a nervous energy tossing her gaze about the floor, then back to the boy in her arms, where she once again regained her genuine smile.

"How about we eat some breakfast, then, _ne_, Sora-chan?" she suggested excitedly, pulling the child into her arms and climbing to her feet.

The toddler nodded eagerly, looking quickly to the dark-haired young man waiting patiently across the room.  "_Ani-ue, eat now, 'kay?"  He stretched his hand out imploringly in a very childlike gesture._

Yuuhi smiled back encouragingly at the small boy.  "Alright then.  I'm sure Suzumi and Q-san are wondering what's keeping us."

*  *  *  *  *

Other than Sora's usual childlike chattering, the morning meal was quieter than usual; something unspoken clouding the usually content atmosphere of the Aogiri household.

"_Maa, maa, Sora-chan!  You eat more than Master Yuuhi!"_

The boy blinked ardent eyes at the clucking housekeeper, face and hands sticky with syrup.  "Sora like pancakes, Cue-cue-_Baachan," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone, stuffing smushed pieces of pancake still clutched in his chubby hands into his mouth with eager relish._

The housekeeper continued to cluck at him chidingly, a warm smile hovering on her matronly lips at the child's antics.

At the head of the table, Aogiri Suzumi ate with quiet propriety, seemingly ignoring the chattering toddler and chiding housekeeper.  The content smile on the _okami's lips gave away her calm amusement, however._

She chanced a casual glance in Aya's direction, silently regarding the subdued manner in which the young woman ate, picking slowly and delicately at the food on her plate.  The sadness in her movements was evident; the day's significance weighing heavily on her still-young mind.

Beside her at the table, Yuuhi ate in a somber silence of his own, the delicate nature of the woman beside him for the time being evidently straining at the young man's features.  Suzumi favored her brother-in-law with a tender expression.  She was well-aware of his feelings for the Mikage girl, which had grown in strength rather than waning over the years; as well as the protectiveness he had over the woman and her son.  To see her suffering so would undoubtedly tear at his own heart.  Suzumi could understand that pain, almost as easily as she could that of Aya's, which was a pain much more familiar to her own after the loss of her own beloved husband.

Despite the happiness that their small, collective family found together, it was a dark past they all shared, which forever clouded the promise of a contented future in the Aogiri household.

"Will you be going in to the restaurant today, Yuuhi?"

Suzumi's gentle inquiry broke the gloomy silence that seemed to hang over them all.

The young martial artist and chef looked up from his meal sharply, obviously startled out of thoughts of his own.

"Ah, _i-iie_," he answered shortly, dark brows furrowing slightly, "I thought I'd take the day off, in case…"

He broke off suddenly, glancing suddenly at Aya, who was still silently staring down at her plate, lost in her own world.  His hazel eyes saddened, and he averted his gaze again just as quickly.

Suzumi lowered her eyes politely, taking another neat bite from her plate.  "_Aa sou_…"

The dance _kyooshi_ allowed herself a small frown.  After two years of hard work and study, Yuuhi had finally gained for himself an apprenticeship at one of the most prestigious traditional restaurants in the Tokyo area.  Cooking was Yuuhi's greatest pride and joy; his position for the last seven-and-a-half months at the Tomonori restaurant had set him on his way to fulfilling his childhood dream of becoming a great chef.

To put aside his love for that…

Aya seemed finally to become aware of what was being said.  She blinked crystalline eyes, looking up at the young man beside her who was now focused intently on his plate, trying to appear as if the matter were of no import.

"_Nan__ de…?  Yuuhi, but…the restaurant!" she exclaimed, her voice soft at first in confusion, then rising with increasing distress.  "Are you sure?"_

The hand holding his chopsticks stilled, freezing momentarily over his plate and instilling a quiet seriousness once more to the morning meal.  Setting the utensils down on their stand, he steadied himself for a reply, keeping his gaze on his half-empty plate.

"I thought…we could go down to Hachijo Island for the day," he spoke finally, his tone mincing and careful.

Everyone else at the table seemed suddenly to fall silent, eyes either intent upon the remains of their meal or upon the young man and the young blonde woman beside him.  The sound of Aya's chopsticks clattering unceremoniously on her plate seemed painfully loud in the ensuing silence.

"Aya-san…?" queried the matronly housekeeper, her tone soft, yet obviously distressed.

The young woman's voice was clear and controlled when she spoke, however.  "_Ano_, Yuuhi…" she began softly, sounding apologetic.  "That's not necessary…"

There was a soft click of chopsticks as Suzumi resumed her meal, causing the gazes of those present to fall suddenly on the Aogiri _okami._

"I think that a trip to the ocean would be a wonderful break for us all," she exclaimed, to everyone's surprise.  She looked up suddenly from her meal, meeting the others' gazes with a gentle smile.

"And Sora hasn't seen the ocean since he was a baby.  It would be nice for him to see it again," she continued gently, roseate eyes warm with concealed understanding.  She turned to the green-eyed toddler, expression encouraging.

"Wouldn't that be nice, Sora-chan?"

The boy looked up at the soft-demeanored dancer, smiling despite his lack of understanding.  "_Hai, Obaachan," he replied cheerily._

Across the table, Yuuhi cleared his throat uncomfortably, gaze shooting quickly to the young woman beside him.  "_G-gomen, Aya.  If…if you'd rather not…"  The martial artist's cheeks flushed in embarrassment over his own audacity.  "I didn't mean to suggest…"_

Aya's head remained bowed.  It couldn't be seen by the others present, but she was biting her lip, fighting back the warm tears that had inadvertently begun to well in her lilac-blue eyes.

"_Iie," she spoke finally, her voice hardly above a whisper, but clear enough to the few present.  "_Iie… Arigatou_, Yuuhi.  A trip to the ocean would be nice."_

*  *  *  *  *

The trip over to the island had seemed at once to take forever, and be uneventfully short all at the same time.  Yuuhi had eagerly kept little Sora occupied with games of 'I Spy' and such throughout both the train ride and then the ferry ride over; the three-year-old blissfully unaware of the significance of their trip as he giggled happily over Yuuhi's antics, occasionally running to his mother to share some newly discovered wonder.  Aya had watched them both shortly, smiling half-heartedly as resurgent memories continued to plague her; increasing the closer they got to their destination.  Then she had turned from their cheerful antics, staring out the glass of the train window, lost in a sea of painful memories.

"Aya," came Suzumi's voice softly, inquiringly, from behind her.  The blonde turned sharply, surprised from her depressed thoughts.

The dance _kyooshi_ had smiled fleetingly, seating herself delicately beside the younger woman.  "Don't mind Yuuhi.  He only wishes for you to be happy," she spoke softly, her eyes not on her, but on her spirited brother-in-law, who stood some ways away pointing at something out the train window to the child in his arms.  A wistful smile hovered on her lips, as thoughts of her dearly departed Kazuma and unborn child entered her mind.  But her focus wasn't on her losses, but on Aya's, which were far more recent and raw than her own.

She turned to meet the blonde's somber gaze, still smiling; her smile now soft and encouraging, and full of understanding.  "This trip is his way of helping; by letting you face those memories that bring you pain and allowing them to bring you peace."

Her gaze moved once again, watching Yuuhi and Sora with a soft expression once more.  "Your time with Touya may have been cut short, but dwelling on that time only leaves the time you have left filled with sorrow and regrets.  I'm sure that both Touya, and Yuuhi, would never want the gift that has been left to you to go to waste."

The Aogiri _okami_ had turned to her once more then, her delicate yet regal Japanese features striking Aya as deeply and effectively as her words.

"Wouldn't you agree, Aya?"

Aya had mulled over the other woman's words for the remainder of the train ride, and on through the ferry ride over to the island.

The sea breeze felt sharp and familiar as the small group broke at last from the path to the view of a familiar beach; Aya observing the well-known terrain with haunted, crystalline eyes.  The tang of salt in the air, the warm caress of the semi-tropical air; all served to remind her of the time she had spent here in perfect bliss.

Beyond that dune was where she had first met Touya; a small girl joyfully sharing in the discovery of a shell with a gentle stranger.  A time of innocence, and the joy of a child.

And here… Here was where they had shared many a warm embrace, basking in the warmth of the dying afternoon sun; looking out over the waves as the sun dipped slowly beyond the horizon.

Tearing her eyes away from the spot and her mind away from the memory, the young woman trudged mechanically back through the soft drifts of sand towards the path and solid ground once more.

Yuuhi, Sora, and Suzumi awaited her there, the two adults' gazes solemn.  The days when Yuuhi would have called out with mingled eagerness and impatience from the top of the hill to greet her, Suzumi smiling softly beneath a mask of parental annoyance… Those days were long gone.  They stood now, with all the years and experiences they'd withstood weighing down upon them as they patiently waited for her to rejoin them, and Aya felt a small, dull pang for those days once again.  She realized, to some extent, how many of the little things she had taken for granted in those days; something as simple and pure as the energetic light in Yuuhi's face, or the patient love in Suzumi's eyes.  She knew it was partially her own fault that some of those simple things had died, and it filled her with remorse.

Topping the dunes, the blonde didn't allow herself to meet their eyes, unwilling to face the pity she knew was there.  Instead, she kept her face low, mechanically outstretching her arms as Sora dashed towards her and she swooped him solemnly up in her embrace.  The child was silent, sensing the tension in the air; he clung silently to the front of her blouse, occasionally raising his spring green eyes to peer imploringly up at his mother as they stood for several moments in taut silence on the sand-swept walk.

Finally, Aya spoke up softly, her eyes still troubled and downcast as she gently pried Sora's fingers from her blouse.

"Yuuhi…  Will you…?"

The martial artist's hazel eyes were laced with pity and an unspoken pain as he nodded gently, stepping forward to take Sora from her arms.  The boy's gaze bounced uncertainly between the two adults, confusion obvious in his young face, but he continued to remain silent; just as content to remain in the martial artist's strong arms as his mother's.

"Aya…" began Yuuhi hesitantly, but faded out inefficiently; his brows drawn tightly.  The young man's emotions warred openly on his face, as had always been his way, though he valiantly held them in check.  His control had grown substantially in the last several years, but it was most likely he would never succeed in masking them from her, as much as he would have liked to…especially during times like these.

_Yuuhi was Yuuhi_, thought Aya wryly.  It had been the exact opposite with Touya.  Touya had been the master of disguise; with both his identity and his heart, regardless of the years they spent together and how close they had become.

But then, Touya and Yuuhi had always been polar opposites.  Like hot and cold running water; day and night.

Again, the familiar pang of grief and confusion that she had been feeling as of late returned to her.

"We'll be on the beach, Aya," spoke up Suzumi softly after several moments; her tone gentle and assuring, as well as the soft gaze she gave the younger woman.  Aya seemed not to notice, her eyes still distant.  She nodded dully, turning at last from the group to trudge quietly up the opposite path from whence they had come.

The trio watched in silence as she disappeared from the beach; her feet following the path with unconscious familiarity as her mind still lay consumed in a fog.

The spot was the same as she remembered it; pristine and seemingly untouched; a small expanse of spring green amidst the surrounding dark flora.  The headstone still seemed new, its epitaph carved fresh with hardly any show of wear from the effects of nature.  The scattered, ashy remains of incense—which had long ago burnt out; all remnants of their aroma washed away by the rain—and a fresh bouquet of pungent flowers that Aya did not recognize lay before it, suggesting that someone had been here to pay their respects quite recently.  Their perfume seemed both familiar and excruciatingly foreign as it drifted to her nose, dancing on a faint breeze that rustled her long blonde hair and teased the hem of her skirt as she gazed at the small grave with aching, crystalline eyes.

She stood that way for what seemed like forever, her mind a blank with the wash of overwhelming emotions that pressed in on her.  She had expected to cry, to pour out her heart to the stone semblance that marked her husband's grave.  She had not expected to find herself so numb with emotion she could do nothing but stare as the day turned long and dim about her.

At last she stirred, willing her atrophied limbs to break from her frozen vigil; a part of her insistent that she gain some sort of finality, some relief from her brief sojourn.

"Touya…" she began softly, her voice surprisingly clear after its lack of use.  "_Koishii_, what should I do?"

Her voice broke, desperation tingeing her somber tone as she took a shaky, hesitant step towards her husband's grave.  Her hands fumbled at the collar of her blouse, retrieving the seashell that hung from a thin chain around her neck and fingering it lovingly.

"We are happy, just like you wished," she murmured painfully, her voice becoming even fainter with grief as she continued, "Your Sora is happy…and so beautiful."

The woman's voice faltered, yet still her eyes were devoid of tears.  "But Touya…every so often…always on this day…"

A shaky breath cut off her words.  Aya closed her eyes briefly, clinging for control as she tried to continue; finding the words difficult.  She felt unable to express her loss in words, her need for solace from the pain that wracked her every year, on this day.  She struggled briefly for her tongue, eyelashes fluttering wildly as she opened her eyes once again to the sight of his grave; cold and unresponsive to her pleas.

"The loneliness, _koishii_…" she breathed softly, achingly, her voice trembling ever so slightly.  The sun-bleached stone danced before her eyes, which were filling slowly with unshed tears.  "How can I…?"

A strong breeze whipped up as she trailed off once again, bowing her head for restraint.  The edges of her skirt danced in its grasp; her blonde hair whipping softly about her face and flashing in the light of the swollen, evening sun.

Gripping the fabric of her skirt as if struggling to maintain her balance, she looked up once again with eyes of empty violet; faint amazement and indecision in her stance.  As she had spoken, had searched so desperately for comfort from his spirit, it had not been her dead lover's gaze that danced before her eyes, but the familiar face of another man.  Even now, that he could affect her so completely, even amidst her sorrow for her departed love, both amazed and tortured her.  The familiar sense of confusion and accompanying pain assaulted her once more; a feeling that had become far more prominent in the days leading up to this painful anniversary, to which she could no longer deny.

She realized suddenly that it hadn't been that her grief at Touya's loss had grown more acute, but that her growing confusion regarding Yuuhi had left her with an overwhelming sense of guilt.  And as she struggled with this sudden comprehension, the tears she had kept at bay up till now spilt over; breaking at last through the barrier of grief that had frozen her over.

"_Gomen," she whispered, her voice trembling even more than before and filled with horror at her own conflicted feelings.  She did not sob, but rather her tears were silent; streaking her face in an unspoken path.  "_Gomen nasai, koishii…gomen._"_

And aching with the surge of guilt that rose within her, she spun harshly about and hurried quickly from the small gravesite; the heavy fragrance of Kurotsuka-sensei's flowers following in her wake.

Touya's gravestone made no sign of recognition at her passing, nor attempted any solution to her tears.  It remained in silent vigil beneath its offering of flowers; an unassuming slab of smooth, well-carved stone; silent as the grave.

As tortured as she was by its silence, Aya had expected nothing more of it.

*  *  *  *  *

_Glossary_

_Kyooshi_ – teacher; instructor

_Okami_ – mistress (of a household [or restaurant])

_Koishii_ – dear; beloved

_References_

Kurotsuka-sensei – In case some of you could not recall this character, he was the doctor that 

appeared briefly in the anime (I'm not sure how much he appears in the manga.) He saved Touya when he was injured in Niigata trying to retrieve Aya from the Mikage labs; and later on, served as a mentor for the couple when they lived in an apartment in Niigata.

Since he lived near Hachijo Island, I thought it would be likely that he would go to honor Touya's grave on the anniversary of his death.  As you can see, Aya seems to make the assumption that the flowers are from him just before leaving the grave.  The fact that the flowers perfume—though she did not recognize them—was familiar was my subtle suggestion that they may have been something she recalled of Kurotsuka-sensei and her time with Touya in Niigata.


	3. scribbled in crayon

AN: It starts out a little heavy, but things start to lighten up a bit in this chapter.  _Ne, all you fellow Yuuhi/Aya fans didn't really think I'd let Aya angst over stupid Touya forever, did you?!  (lol)  Oh, and I want to know what all of you think of Sora.  I myself have fallen in love with the little guy—he's absolutely adorable in my mind's eye; maybe someday I'll draw him—but being his 'creator', I could just be blinded by self-love (hah!)  Anyway, I'm really curious how the little tyke's gone over with all of you readers, so let me know in your reviews or drop me a line!  (AN-2: If anyone's familiar with the anime version of Momiji-kun from __Fruits Basket, I imagine Sora's voice to be an even younger version of his voice.  _Kawaii~ii!)__

~* To Be Yours *~

By Nichole (Neko-chan) Johnson

Written: July 23 – 25, 2003

_For Yuuhi's sake…_

~*~*~*~

Chapter Two ~ Scribbled in Crayon 

Somehow she managed to compose herself, for once she made it back to the beach, her face was once more a frozen mask; nary a trace of tears on her face.

Her eyes surveyed the shoreline, where traces of violet already shown in preparation for the setting sun; her shadow streaming long behind her, leaving her face burning with the subtle rose colors of the evening sunlight.

And at last her eyes fell on the seated figure below her in the sands.  His back was to her, his eyes on the scene she herself had been admiring only a moment before; but even so, she felt the familiar tendrils of confusion and doubt that usually assaulted her at his gaze.

The young woman tossed her gaze about; attempting to clear her mind as she searched the beach for the Aogiri _okami_ and her son, but neither was to be found.  At last, feeling she could avoid it no longer, she descended the path with slow, measured steps towards the seated figure on the sands.

If he noticed her approach, he gave no indication.  She was a mere two feet away from him when she froze, caught off guard by what she saw.  Sora, his golden hair shining a brilliant red in the sunset, lay asleep; stretched carelessly across Yuuhi's lap as if he'd simply fallen there out of complete exhaustion.  The look of peace and utter content on her son's face awoke something in her; something that had been dead to her now for days and the urge to cry once more was overpowering.

But there was a decidedly different emotion behind the urge than before; an emotion that tugged insistently at her heart and brought renewed warmth to her thus-far frozen gaze.

It was now, at last, that Yuuhi seemed to take notice of her presence; twisting about slightly to peer up at her with concerned surprise.  His movements were cautious; careful not to wake the child still asleep in his lap, and Aya's heart seemed to twist even more at the tender act.

"Aya?  _Daijobu desu ka?_" spoke the young chef softly; once again, his tone low so as not to disturb the sleeping child.

Unable to stop her tears, Aya put a hasty hand to her mouth, struggling for control.  Shaking her head faintly, her fingers unconsciously fingering the seashell at her neck, she continued to watch her sleeping son with adoring, violet-blue eyes.

Hazel eyes alight with the rose colors of the dying sun watched her, narrowed with pained concern; as the woman who had always remained so strong, who rarely cried, broke down into soft sobs before him.  Lifting the toddler tenderly from his lap and depositing him gently on the sand, Yuuhi rose slowly to his feet; clasping the young woman gently by the shoulders, imploring her to look him in the eyes.

She did, and to his surprise, threw herself into his arms as well; her hands clinging desperately to the front of his shirt as she continued to cry silently into his chest.  Instinctively, Yuuhi wrapped his arms around her in response, holding her tightly; his face speaking clearly of how long he had longed to do so, even as his heart continued to be riddled with pain at her despair.

They seemed to stay that way forever, the sun sinking ever lower in the west; their shadows reaching with long violet fingers across the sand.  Yuuhi was suddenly aware that her muffled sobs sounded more like laughter; choked and oddly distorted by her tears.

"Sora…always looks so peaceful when he's with you," Aya murmured, breaking the silence; her voice still muffled by his shirt.  "_Gomen.  I couldn't help myself."_

She pulled away at last, resolutely wiping away her tears, and he was able to see the small smile that graced her lips.  Shyly avoiding his eyes, she dropped her gaze to her son, still sleeping peacefully in the sand.  The look of tender love on her face seemed to ease his heart immensely.  He continued to watch her silently; she could feel his gaze on her as clearly as if it were the dying rays of the sun itself, and still she did not look up, avoiding the plea in her heart to do so as she continued to gaze at Sora's peacefully sleeping features.

"Where is Suzumi?" she ventured at last, her eyes still not meeting his as they turned to gaze once more on the sunset that touched the horizon.

"Paying her own respects," was Yuuhi's soft reply, his own gaze following hers to the sea; a faintly pensive frown marring his features.

She turned to meet his eyes at last, sensing some insistence in his voice.

"I should go, too," he said at last, grasping her shoulder softly as if to take his leave.

Aya nodded encouragingly, her eyes softly grateful at his support.  "Sora and I will be right here," she assured him with a tender glance in the toddler's direction.

Nodding as if satisfied by her assurance, Yuuhi turned and strode up the beach towards the path whence she had come not but ten minutes ago.  Aya watched him go, consumed once more by conflicting emotions as he disappeared from view.  Then gazing once more upon the sun-touched waters, she lowered herself gently to the sand beside Sora's sleeping form, stroking the child's cheek softly with her fingers as her mind continued to war silently with her heart.

*  *  *  *  *

_Several weeks later…_

*  *  *  *  *

The young woman hummed softly as she worked, her voice growing steadily in strength; occasionally mouthing the words under her breath as she patted fresh earth over the seedling she had just planted.  Eyes of violet, crystalline blue twinkled merrily in satisfaction as she glanced over her work; leaning back on her heels and wiping a stray hair from her face with the back of her hand.

It was rather late in the year to be planting, but the urge to do something constructive and fulfilling had brought her out here on this late May afternoon, with a handful of begonia seedlings from the main garden and a trowel.

Aya raised her gaze from the small plot of soil towards the _engawa_ and the open _shoji_ beyond, where Sora's cheerfully babbling voice could be heard, followed occasionally by the lower murmur of Q-san's chiding tones.  Satisfied with her work and stilling humming a wordless rendition of some bubbly pop song, the young woman climbed easily to her feet; dusting off the knees of her jeans and placing aside her gardening tools on the edge of the _engawa_ for the time being.

"_Ne, are you finished, Aya-san?" queried Q-san gently, looking up from her and Sora's play._

"_Hai," replied Aya with a cheerful smile, pulling herself up to sit on the edge of the _engawa_.  "For now.  In a couple of weeks, Sora and I should have the smell of begonias wafting into our room."_

"_Sou ka.  That will be lovely…" murmured the housekeeper contemplatively, smiling softly at the thought.  Her brows furrowed slightly in thought, a slight frown to her expression.  "_Demo_, Aya-san…Why did you not simply ask the gardener to plant some of the larger begonia bushes from the main garden there for you?  It will be several years before those little seedlings are full grown."_

Aya smiled brightly at the housekeeper's query, swinging her legs whimsically as she did.  It was moments like these that she remained the same strong-willed and bright natured girl she had been so many years ago when she'd first come to live with the Aogiri family; even with her face softened somewhat by motherhood.

"It gives me something to do," was her carefree reply as she surveyed her work once more.  "And this way I get to watch them grow.  Somehow it just seems more special that way."

Q-san blinked silently at the sense of contentment in her reply for a moment.  Then a warm grin of understanding lit her face, and the old woman chuckled lightly.

"_Hai.  Wakatta.  Even at heart, you are a mother, Aya-san!" she laughed, turning once again to Sora and resuming her watchful eye on the quietly drawing toddler._

"_Ara, Sora-chan!  What in heavens are you drawing?"_

Looking up at the exclamation, Aya glanced in her son's direction with mischievous curiosity; amused as always by the trouble the towheaded boy seemed to cause the old housekeeper.

"It's a f'wower, Cue-cue!" exclaimed the boy matter-of-factly, calling the housekeeper by the familiar old nickname.  The edge of exasperation in his tone caused Aya to giggle softly to herself.  "Sora and Yuuhi-_aniue's f'wower!"_

Holding up the piece of paper he had been working on, he jutted his little chin out at her with pride.  Aya giggled some more at the sight, but her laughter this time was softer; warm with affection as she peered at the colorful jumble of crayon scrawls that supposedly represented a flower in the child's eyes.

Q-san politely complimented the drawing, her tone consoling, as Aya looked on with motherly devotion.  And then the boy's words seemed to click as she snapped her fingers in recollection.

"Ah!  Your flower—that's right!" she exclaimed suddenly, a pleasant smile crossing her features.  "_Mou_, Sora-chan, let's go water your flower, _ne?_"

The little boy looked up from the mess of papers and crayons strewn across the _tatami of their room, his face alight with delight at his mother's suggestion.  "__Hai!" he replied eagerly, scrambling hastily to his feet and dashing over to the edge of the _engawa_._

Dropping to the lawn, Aya swung him up in her arms in a playful manner, watching him squeal with delight; his hair shining reddish-gold in the bright afternoon sunlight.

Watching the display of affection between mother and son with a tender expression, Q-san quietly gathered the toddler's various drawings and the scattered crayons in her arms and rose to her feet.  "It's nearly time for Yuuhi-san to return from work, Aya-san.  If you need me, I'll be in the sitting room with _Okami-san," she remarked, giving a small bow and shuffling politely from the room._

"_Hai!" called Aya in acknowledgement.  Propping her son on one hip, she retrieved her watering can from the lawn and smiling at Sora cheerfully, headed towards the middle of the yard where a small fence of bamboo sticks and some twine had been constructed around the delicate, swaying stem of a small flower; its bud still closed to the sun with immaturity._

"_Aa!  Look, Sora!  I think it's grown since yesterday—don't you think?"_

Setting the boy down in the grass, Aya crouched beside him before the small flower, studying the dark green leaves and swaying, pale green stem with delighted curiosity.  Leaning over the tiny, bamboo fencing, ardent green eyes wide and alight with childlike wonder, Sora made a small sound of delight and awe.  He no longer reached out to grasp the tiny flower as he had done when the sprout had first appeared, but merely watched it sway gently in the afternoon breeze, it's tightly closed petals suggesting at bright colors to come; and as always, Aya was amazed at the intensity with which the boy watched over the baby flower.

"_Mou, I bet it's thirsty, don't you think, Sora-chan?" she suggested gently, leaning back on her heels to offer the toddler the small watering can still in her hands._

Nodding eagerly, Sora took the can from her; letting his mother's hands grasp his over the small handle and guide his hands as he carefully watered the small plant, a look of intense concentration on his small face.

"Mama?" he questioned curiously after the flower had been adequately saturated, once more crouched intently over his prize.  "Will f'wower be big someday?  Like Sora?"

Aya laughed shortly, her voice musical.  "_Ara!  Maybe someday, Sora.  But only if it's a very big flower."_

"Big like Yuuhi-_aniue?" added the fair-haired toddler, looking imploringly up at his mother with wide, innocent green eyes.  Jumping to his feet, he stretched high on his toes, raising his arms high above his head in an attempt to mimic the chef's height._

Aya laughed brightly, further amused by his antics.  "I don't think it will get that big, Sora—I'm pretty sure it's not a sunflower."

"_Oro?" remarked the child curiously, letting his arms fall to his sides once again.  "Sun f'wower?"_

"_Hai," confirmed his mother with a nod.  "A sunflower's a really big flower."_

Now it was her turn to stretch her arms upwards in a suggestion of great height.  "Very, very tall!  Even taller that Yuuhi!"

Sora gazed up at her in wide-eyed amazement.  "_Aa!  Sugoi!"_

Laughing, Aya nodded in agreement, picking herself up off the grass and retrieving the watering can as well.

"Come on, Sora!  Let's go give the begonias a drink and then we can go inside and see if Yuuhi's home yet."

*  *  *  *  *

Letting her fingers play softly over Sora's sleeping face, Aya smiled softly down at the child as she pulled the discarded blanket back over his sleeping form.  With one last motherly look at the slumbering toddler, she rose to her feet, and switching off the nearby lamp, stole softly from the room; sliding the _shoji_ carefully in its track so as not to disturb him.

Standing in the darkened hallway, her gaze stole to the door just down the hall; the room just next door.  Faint light shown from beneath the _shoji_; streaming across the gleaming dark wooden floor and signaling that its occupant must still be awake.

"Yuuhi?" called the young woman softly, tapping hesitantly at the door's wooden frame and listening carefully for sounds of movement from within.

Their rooms were no longer adjoined as they had been when Ceres had shared her body, leaving her vulnerable to attacks from the Mikage family; and Yuuhi was no longer officially her protector.    But old habits seemed to die hard.  It was true that it had officially been Suzumi who'd taken Aya and Sora under her wing after the death of Touya; she being the rightful mistress of the house.  But it had been Yuuhi who had truly taken their well-being and care to heart at the time, falling immediately back into the role of Aya's protector.  That his room had been situated directly beside hers was clearly no coincidence, and Aya had been well aware of it right from the beginning.

And she had been eternally grateful for it.  At a time when life had seemed to shatter like so much broken glass about her ears…to know that some things in life would remain as constant as time itself had comforted her immensely.

The fact that she had never told him of this…seemed at once regrettable, as she stood outside his door in the darkened hall; her features soft with contemplation.

There remained no answer from the room beyond.  Brows furrowed now in faint concern, she hesitantly slid the _shoji_ aside and peered into the dimly lit room.  His bedside lamp was on, but otherwise, the room seemed unoccupied; the outside _shoji_ thrown wide open to the cool night breeze.

Shivering slightly, Aya moved further into the room, hoping to close the _shoji against the chilly air of the night.  May seemed somewhat early to be having them open at this time of night; she wondered where he could have gone with his room left open like that._

Gone were the days when she would have felt guilty for trespassing in the young man's room without his permission.  It seemed that these days—ever since the death of her husband, in fact—he seemed to begrudge her nothing.  In some ways, they had grown closer upon her return to the Aogiri household.  But in many others, there lay an even greater wall between them that at times, was near impossible to surpass.

Their embrace on the beach, on the anniversary of Touya's death several weeks before, had been the first time they had hugged in several years.

And the memory of his warmth still caused Aya to shiver with a flurry of mixed emotions.

"Yuuhi?  Are you here?" she called softly once again, though the room seemed clearly unoccupied.  The sudden switch in her train of thoughts had left her less bold in her intrusion, and she hurried now to reach the _shoji_ in order to close them and take her leave.

But when she reached the open _shoji_, she froze, and found herself smiling softly at what she found.  Yuuhi, his profile framed by the dim outline of light coming from his room, sat quietly along the edge of the _engawa_.  She hadn't seen him from the doorway because he had moved himself further down, holding vigil just outside her own room.

Her room…where Sora lay peacefully sleeping.

"_Konban wa," she greeted softly, dropping down gently beside him on the worn wood._

His gaze, previously distant and staring off into the gardens, turned to her; hazel eyes glinting warmly in the faint light coming from his room.  His hair shown darker than usual, apparently still damp from his evening bath.

"_Un," he murmured in response, his gaze once again looking out over the lawn and gardens beyond with contentment.  "I didn't realize you were still up."_

She smiled faintly, hugging her knees to her in the chilly evening air.  "I was too awake after my bath to try and sleep," was her reply, her eyes falling curiously on his shadowed figure.  Her eyes trailed the length of his arm down to his hand where it lay flat, palm down on the wooden _engawa_ over a small pile of familiar, crayon-scribbled drawings.

The young woman couldn't help but feel a tender sort of warmth at this small discovery.  "Did Q-san give you those?" she questioned lightly, affectionate humor evident in her voice.

Yuuhi looked down, following her eyes to Sora's brightly colored drawings beneath his hand.

"_Hai," he confirmed, his voice warm and low so as not to disturb the sleeping child in the room beyond.  The tender affection in his gaze as he raised the drawings to his face once again struck Aya deeply and she struggled to withstand the sudden surge of unfamiliar emotions they awoke in her._

She realized, suddenly, that Yuuhi was blushing lightly in the dim light from the room behind them, brows furrowed fiercely in an expression of frustration as he looked at the drawings in his hand.  Forgetting her own confusion, Aya couldn't help but grin slightly at the look of discomfort on his face.

"What is it?" she asked, slightly teasing; certain she knew partly the reason for his embarrassment.

"_Betsuni," he muttered, putting the papers aside as if to cover his discomfort.  "Q-san was just saying some silly things about them earlier."_

Aya smiled in an understanding matter, taking the drawings from him and studying them herself; much of her suspicions confirmed.  "Hmm," she murmured sympathetically.  "Did she tell you this one was of you and Sora's flower?  The one out in the middle of the yard?"

Looking at the indicated drawing, Yuuhi shook his head faintly, his blush intensifying somewhat.  Even in the dim light, the added color to his face was apparent.

"Ah…Actually, she told me that was her and her former husband dancing the tango," was his muttered reply.

At the look on his face, Aya broke into laughter; covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound.

Yuuhi turned somewhat indignant, his blush growing by the minute.  "_Oi!_  It's not like I believed her—I don't really think that's the sort of thing a three-year-old's going to draw!" he insisted, trying to keep his voice low despite her laughter.

His expression turned suddenly sour.  "It was the mental images that were disturbing…"

Aya thought she would suffocate from lack of breath, her eyes tearing with the effort it took to smother her laughter.

Yuuhi seemed to suffer the embarrassment a moment longer, his face still red.  And then his blush began to fade, hazel eyes sparkling lightly with amusement as a wry grin of his own began to tug at the corners of his mouth.  But rather than join in her laughter, he simply gazed at her, enjoying her own amusement; a sudden tenderness to his gaze.

Her eyes surprisingly arrested by his engaging hazel gaze, the young woman's laughter slowly died away.  Momentarily entranced, she unconsciously shivered as a tremor went up her spine.

Tearing her eyes away nervously, she tried to cover up the sudden slip in expression with an assuring smile; her eyes focused intently on her toes and the grain of the wood beneath her feet.

"Well, what did she say about the others, then?" she prompted, hoping to break the sudden change in mood that had come over them.

She seemed to succeed, for he turned away slightly; once again appearing somewhat embarrassed.

"Have you thought about school again?" he spoke suddenly, changing the subject abruptly and brushing off his earlier embarrassment.

Aya frowned slightly to herself at the suddenness of his remark, but even so, her gaze became pensive at his words.  "Somewhat…" she admitted softly, hugging her knees to herself more tightly as if suddenly aware of the cold again.

Yuuhi watched her intently, hazel eyes patient as he waited for her to elaborate.  She shifted slightly under his gaze, raising her eyes slightly but still not quite meeting his.

"I just don't think…that that's me anymore," she continued at last.  "School is just…not important to me now."

Her gaze fell on the drawings now strewn between them, and the tenderness that touched her eyes once again seemed to touch Yuuhi as well.

"When…"  She hesitated, teetering on the brink of broaching a potentially painful subject.  But then she seemed to collect herself; her expression firm as she plowed on.

"When Touya and I were first married," she continued softly, her voice confident and unwavering, "And then when Sora was born, I felt no regrets about my choice.  I was determined to lead a new life as a wife and as a mother."

Here, her gaze seemed somewhat painful, but her tone was no less assured than before.  Yuuhi's warm gaze on her, unerringly supportive, seemed to ease the threat of tears that more often than not accompanied Touya's memory.

"Touya's death didn't change any of that," she added after her brief pause, "If anything, it made me even more determined to raise Sora as best I could; to be the best mother I could be."

"That's all that matters to me right now: being a mother to Sora.  My education—anything more than that—doesn't factor into that; not anymore."

Trembling slightly with the strength of her resolve, she continued to stare determinately into the wood-grain, awaiting Yuuhi's response to her little declaration of sorts.

She didn't have long to wait.

"Aya…"

His voice beckoned her eyes to his, and when they met, she felt a rush of relief and unfamiliar emotion at the support and love in his hazel gaze.  Smiling softly at the look of relief in her eyes, he cocked his head gently at her.

"You don't have to justify your decision for me," he assured her warmly, his eyes holding hers.  "Whatever you choose, you know I'd support you."

Flushing slightly, he broke their gaze shyly, his eyes drifting to the floor.  "But…I'm glad you'd share that with me."

Touched beyond words and utterly relieved, all Aya could do was smile.  "_Arigatou_, Yuuhi.  I'm glad, too."

Her own gaze fell once more with a sudden embarrassment of her own.  "_Anoo_…You and Suzumi have done so much for Sora and I.  Even before…everything with Touya…"

Yuuhi cut her off softly, shaking his head lightly at her gratitude.  "_Yame_.  Don't worry about that," he muttered insistently, turning away slightly.

His gaze, even as it wasn't focused on her, was suddenly intent.  "I'm just glad…"

He broke off.  Even at this angle, his eyes spoke of a fierce struggle of emotions, as was character with the usually fiery young man.

After a moment, Yuuhi shook his head slightly; frustration, resentment, and something else—something deeper-seated than such emotions—in his bearing.

"_Iie," he trailed off with a sigh, his voice painfully soft.  "_Betsuni_."_

And before she could press him on the matter, he rose quickly to his feet; his eyes still avoiding her gaze.

"_Oyasumi, Aya," he muttered, clearly closing the conversation for the night as he slipped past her._

"Yuuhi…" she attempted uselessly, watching him disappear into his room and close the _shoji softly behind him.  A minute later, the light went off, and she was left in darkness; still seated on the _engawa_, Sora's scribbled drawings strewn beside her on the worn wood._

Indecision and a surge of ineluctable emotions once more weighing down upon her, she gazed down at the scribbled drawing closest at hand; the one Sora had claimed to be 'Sora and Yuuhi-_aniue's flower'._

"_Oyasumi, Yuuhi…"_

*  *  *  *  *

_Glossary_

_Daijobu desu ka?_ – Are you alright?

_Engawa_ – veranda (deck) that runs the length of a traditional, Japanese home

_Wakatta_ – I understand; understood

_Betsuni_ – It's nothing.

_Yame_ – stop

_References_

"Cue-cue" – Hee-hee.  This was mentioned in Chp. 1 as well.  It's my silly made-up nickname for 

Q-san that Sora calls her all the time.  Who knows where it comes from; I just thought it would be cute and fitting for his character.


End file.
